


but the ending is the same every damn time

by Lady_Slytherin



Category: Lovely Little Losers
Genre: F/F, Femslash February, Song fic, couple of paragraphs of explicit sex at the beginning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-21 11:12:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9546350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Slytherin/pseuds/Lady_Slytherin
Summary: Meg and Jaquie hook up at a party. It's unclear as to where things can go from there.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written a sex scene before I hope this is enjoyable.

Meg spreads her legs further, leaning back further on the tile counter, and moans. The sound reverberates through the bathroom and leaves Jaquie weak at the knees.

“Shut up,” she whispers, letting her lips brush against Meg’s ear as she speaks. “Someone’s going to hear us.” 

“If I shut up, will you go back to what you were doing?” 

Ignoring the way her stomach drops when Meg raises her eyebrow, Jaquie takes a step forward between her legs and buries her face in her neck. She’s pretty sure that if she tries hard enough, she can find that spot again, the one that makes Meg gasp so hard it’s like she’s absorbed all the oxygen in the room. 

Meg’s fingers tug tightly through her hair, and the sound she makes when Jaquie scrapes her teeth against her neck is even better than what Jaquie had hoped for. She steps back, using one hand to keep Meg steady on the counter. With the other, she resumes thrusting, thumb moving circles around Meg’s clit.

Then Meg yanks her hair, pulling her closers so their lips brush against each other. “Is it okay that I’m not—” Her words are cut off by a quite moan. Jaquie repeats the motion, grinning against Meg’s lips as they’re met with another moan.

“Yeah,” Jaquie whispers. Her voice is hoarse, and she’s not sure she could speak louder if she tried. “It’s okay if you don’t touch me back.”

Meg grabs her by the shoulders and pulls her in. She kisses her hard, tongue slipping into her mouth and back out. Jaquie’s fingers are crushed between their bodies, but she tries to increase their motion while sucking on Meg’s lip. Their breaths mirror each other, rough and unsteady, and Meg’s nails dig into Jaquie’s shoulders as though they’re the only thing holding her up.

The sound of Meg’s moan when she comes startles both of them. She puts a hand to her mouth to cover the noise, but it’s too late.

Somebody pounds on the door. 

Meg’s eyes widen, but before Jaquie can say anything to keep her calm, the person outside speaks.

“Are there people having sex in there?” It’s Freddie’s voice, and it’s several pitches above her normal range. It’d almost be funny, actually, if Meg didn’t look so pale. 

“We’ll be out in a minute,” Jaquie calls. She nudges Meg, who leaps off the edge of the sink and straightens her skirt. If it wasn’t for the way her hands were shaking, it would look as though she didn’t cared less what was happening. Jaquie can’t bear to look, so she turns on the faucet and washes her hands.

Freddie pounds on the door again. “Will you _please_ hurry up?”

Jaquie glances over at Meg. “We have to leave eventually,” she says in as neutral a voice as possible.

“Yeah, just give me a second.” Meg splashes water on her face. Even now, she’s beautiful.

Jaquie tears her eyes away and stares at the misted-over window, something heavy in the pit of her stomach. She has a pretty good idea of how this is going to end.

When they leave the bathroom, Freddie is waiting outside with her hands on her hips. She opens her mouth, then closes it when she sees who’s coming out behind Jaquie.

Jaquie ignores this, reaching backward to take Meg’s hand. She squeezes it, then leads her towards the back of the flat, where Costa’s balcony is. It is strictly Off-Limits, to be used only for house productions that require balcony scenes, which according to Costa is all of them. But Jaquie’s never been much for rules, and there won’t be anyone out there right now.

When they get through the door, Meg exhales loudly. “Thank you for not making me go back into the party,” she says, leaning on the railing. “I’m not sure I can face everyone right after—well, that.”

“You know it won’t stay a secret, right?” Jaquie blurts out. 

Meg laughs. It sounds painful. “Are you referring to the fact that Freddie’s definitely going to tell the others, or the huge love bite you gave me?”

“Both, I guess.”

“It’s okay if they know,” Meg says. She stares out at the sky, as though it contains the answer to a problem she hasn’t figured out how to express “I have to tell them I’m bi eventually, right?”

“It’s up to you,” Jaquie tells her. “You can always say you were just experimenting.” Her chest is tight but she won’t, she _won’t_ make Meg come out if she wasn’t want to. 

Meg doesn’t answer. She pulls a pack of cigarettes out of her purse. “You want one?” she offers.

“You smoke?”

“Not usually,” Meg says. “But tonight? Yeah. Tonight I do.”

“I’ll take one too, then,” Jaquie says.

Meg’s fingers brush hers as she hands over the cigarette, and then a second time as she lights it for her. Jaquie takes a deep breath in, then lets the smoke trickle out of her mouth in a trail that leads up to the heavens.

*

They’re sharing a third cigarette, the butts of the previous ones lying at their feet, and Meg is watching Jaquie like she’s art. She nudges her with her elbow, then gives her a smile and passes the cigarette back.

“What?” Jaquie demands, suddenly self-conscious. When she brings the cigarette to her lips, she inhales sharply. She wonders if all of the messy things inside of her are leaking out, if that’s why Meg is staring.

“It’s just—I’m just thinking about how easy this is. It’s never like this with guys. If I’d just screwed a guy in the bathroom at a party, we wouldn’t be out on a balcony like this I don’ think. Or if we were, it wouldn’t be this nice.”

“Sounds like you’ve been fucking the wrong guys.” Not that her own track record is stellar with guys _or_ girls. No matter who Jaquie’s with, she manages to feel like she’s too much or not enough, sometimes both at the same time.

She takes another drag of the cigarette.

“Yeah, I probably have,” Meg says. “It’s hard not to, though.” Her voice is soft, and Jaquie wonders who hurt her, what they’d done to make her sound like that.

“So, who was the asshole?”

Meg’s eyes widen, but only for a second. “His name’s Robbie. He pretended to cheat on me with Hero so her boyfriend would dump her.”

“Did it work?”

Meg nods. “Yeah, it did.”

“Want me to beat him up for you?” Jaquie asks. She needs to offer Meg something, but she doesn’t have anything to give. She wants to tear herself apart and let Meg pick whichever pieces she wants most.

“It’s fine. I’m over it, it was a long time ago.”

Jaquie almost believes her, but the light of a passing car illuminates Meg’s face and she can see in her eyes it’s not true. 

“I’m just tired of it all,” Meg admits. 

“All of what?”

“I don’t know.”

Jaquie feels as though she understands completely. “We should run away,” she suggests half-seriously. “Change our names and start over somewhere new.” What she means: let’s get out of here, away from all of the boys and the girls and the everydayness. Let’s start over and walk in the moonlight and get drunk off boxed wine and never let our feet touch the ground. 

“Jaquie,” Meg whispers. She laughs and takes the cigarette from Jaquie, then grinds it against the porch railing. “Can I, um kiss you again?”

The word yes is barely out of Jaquie’s mouth before Meg’s hand are on her hips, holding her so tightly that it would hurt if the world tonight was one of sense and logic. Jaquie buries her hands in Meg’s hair and pulls her close. There’s something raw in this, something that couldn’t exist in the daylight. She is a moth, lowering herself into water because it brings her closer to the light. She is a girl, sharp elbows and teeth.

They hold each other tightly, and they kiss, and if Jaquie accidentally bites Meg’s lip too hard, or if Meg’s fingernails dig into her hips, it is nothing compared to the world that for this moment, they are keeping at bay.

When Meg pulls away, she leans forward on the balcony and gets out a new cigarette. She takes a few drags, then hands it over to Jaquie without even asking if she wants it. Her lipstick has left red marks all over the filter. Jaquie wonders if those same marks are on her lips.

“What are we going to do about this? Meg asks, and Jaquie doesn’t have to ask what she means. There’s tonight, and there’s the rest of the world, with no way to reconcile the two. 

“Let’s not tell them anything,” she says. “Like, when they ask what we were doing in the bathroom let’s pretend we don’t know what they’re talking about. Just to fuck with them.”

Meg laughs. “And the point of that would be?”

Jaquie shrugs. “I don’t know. Aren’t secrets kind of fun?”

“I think tonight will feel like a secret no matter who finds out about it,” Meg says, eyes flicking to Jaquie’s lips. “It’s just one of those nights.”

They kiss again. When they pull away, Jaquie’s insides feel as though they’ve dissolved. “I’ve had a crush on you forever,” she admits, and it’s easy.

Meg doesn’t answer. The silence stretches on for miles.

“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” Jaquie tells her.

They eyes that look back at her are clear and sad. “I don’t think it can.”

It was always going to end this way.

*

“Heard you got laid last night,” Peter says, and she wants to punch him. She pretends she doesn’t know what he’s talking about, refuses to say Meg’s name.

“How was it?” Chelsey asks, and Jaquie thinks of the light in Meg’s eyes, wonders how in the name of hell you describe the way somebody’s fingers feel on your hips and she knows Chelsey means well but all it makes her want to do is cry. All it does it make her think of how broken Meg had looked when she talked about Robbie, how they should have just fucking run away together and ignored everything else. 

It wasn’t supposed to hurt like this.

“How are you?” Paige asks, and she wants to answer, she really does, but there isn’t anything to say.

*

Paige helps her write a song so she feels less like drowning, but Jaquie’s the one who gets up there on stage for the open mic, she’s the one who sings and holds back the tears and pretends it doesn’t matter. Peter’s dragged all of his friends there to support her, and she doesn’t have the heart to tell him he shouldn’t have.

*

The song is over. The song is over, and Jaquie is all but running off the stage. She’s running, and there’s the door back into the coffeeshop and the door that leads outside, and she has to decide what to pick.

The song is over, and she didn’t look at Meg a single time while she sang it.

Jaquie chooses the door to outside. It leads to an alleyway. It’s dark out, but there’s a streetlight so she pauses under it to take stock. She’s not sure where to go from here.

A noise behind her makes her whirl around.

It’s Meg, and she’s walking through the doorway like a character in a fucking movie or something, and the light is hitting her hair, and—

Shit.

“It wasn’t about you,” Jaquie says. She looks away and closes her eyes. She can’t look back. She’s supposed to be figuring out which way to go to get out of this alley.

“Bullshit.”

She looks. She fucking looks, and Meg has that determined-but-also-apologetic expression on her face, and—and—

“Can you pretend you don’t know that?” Her voice is harsh. She doesn’t care. “I’m trying to keep at least some of my dignity here. I’m not Costa.”

Meg ignores her. “I was stupid. I just— I got scared. If you still want to try—”

She stops, and the silence stretches onward. Jaquie wants her to finish what she’s saying. She wants to know what the fuck went wrong, how Meg could have let her bury herself twelve feet under the ground if she didn’t mean it. She wants to know the radioactive half-life of heartbreak.

“I can’t promise you anything,” Meg says quietly. “But I want to try. I really, really want to try again.”

There are so many questions and none of them have answers. It matters, and it doesn’t, and it hurts and it doesn’t, and really, there never was a choice. “Okay,” Jaquie whispers, and she wonders if this is what love is.

Meg wraps her arms around her, so tightly it hurts, and Jaquie wonders if they can write their own ending to this story.


End file.
